The world's just spinning / A little too fast / If things don't slow down soon / We might not last. / So just for the moment, let's be still.
- The Head and the Heart, "Let's Be Still"
The internet was overflowing with love letters to October, and I feel like November's kind of getting the shaft. Maybe it's Christmas sneaking into fall. Maybe it's cooler temperatures and leaves blowing off the trees in overwhelming numbers.
Here's the thing about living in the South: Autumn hits it stride here in November. The temperatures genuinely start dropping, and the leaves start changing their colors. Fall takes so long to reach my little corner of the world, and it goes by fast. It always goes so fast. But... there's November. With its short, dark days and its cozy, cold nights.
We got married in November. I prayed and prayed for pretty weather on our wedding day. I wanted it to be exactly how I remembered my Florida Novembers: clear, blue sky; slight breeze; leaves on the ground, but still clinging to the trees.
And it was. It really was.
I think that's part of the reason I love November so much. It reminds me of our wedding day, of the start to this grand adventure called marriage. It's full of gratitude and family, two things I happen to love and need a whole lot. Jordan's birthday is in November, and Thanksgiving -- a low-maintenance holiday designed specifically around food and generosity -- wraps it all up at the end. I think a lot of people, mostly thanks to geography, say goodbye to autumn as October winds down.
So is it fun to go to pumpkin patches in shorts and flip-flops? And is it hard to watch those pumpkins melt and rot in the still-summertime sun? Does it seem unfair to have to bypass apple cider because it simply doesn't match the temperature outside.
But we get rewarded for our patience in November. In November, we dim the lights and celebrate Candletime. We sit by the proverbial fire, read more books. I craft a little. I wear socks. We watch a little bit less television. We use -- and need! -- blankets. I pull out the crockpot, and dinner is magically ready when we get home. We breathe deeper, easier, and our walks around the neighborhood actually require our jackets, a scarf if we're lucky.
I'm not a poet. But if I was, if I had the power to leak words onto paper and speak imagery into your imagination, I'd wax neverending about November. I used to blog a lot about what was saving my life. It's a habit I'm sorry I somehow lost, but know this: October was all about awakening. And now November is continuing to save my life.
* Also saving my life? The new The Head and the Heart CD. You want it; trust me.